"Yes. He's the one watching the girls. I hated to impose, since he's already busy with the boys, but he said he'd be happy to do it."

Jo pictured his kind eyes and felt ashamed. "Does he know how it happened?"

"I didn't tell him any of the details. He sends his best wishes for a speedy recovery."

Jo sighed, relieved. "I knew it was a mistake. I shouldn't have gone anywhere with that guy when I don't really know him."

"You're lucky. It could have been much worse."

"I know. I feel bad about it, though."

"Why?"

"I guess because Fritz has been so nice to me, and I can't help thinking he'd disapprove."

"His opinion matters that much to you."

"Well, yes, it does." Jo looked into Sharon's eyes. "I respect him a lot. He's a great guy."

Sharon smiled and patted Jo's arm. "I'm sure he thinks highly of you as well."

Jo spent the rest of the day watching television. She couldn't get Fritz out of her mind. She'd never felt for a man before as she did for him. For Teddy, there had always been a sisterly affection, but he'd never occupied her mind as Fritz now did. What did it mean?

She had the strangest dream that night. Reverend Baumgartner was giving a sermon, but he had Fritz's face. When she awakened, she lay there a long time, wondering what the connection between the two men was. They lived in two completely different time periods, seventy years apart. And why had she been sent back into the life of Magda? Would it ever happen again?

She dozed off once again, still contemplating the puzzling recent events in her life.

The next day she was released and returned to the brownstone with the bandage on her head as a reminder of her ordeal. Kerri and Kelli were glad to see her and regaled her with stories of what had been going on in her absence. They were curious about her bandage and kept touching it, and she had to remind them to be gentle.

Sore from her broken ribs, Jo spent the majority of that week resting, and on Saturday, Sharon said she was taking the girls and Franz and Emil to the children's museum.

"Its the least I could do after the emergency babysitting Fritz did for me last weekend," she told Jo.

"That was all my fault," said Jo. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Sharon replied, helping Kelli on with her coat. "You had no way of knowing what would happen."

After Sharon and the girls had left, Jo settled in for a long, quiet afternoon of Netflix. About thirty minutes later, she heard the doorbell ring. Slowly making her way to the door, she looked through the peephole to see Fritz standing there, holding a square, flat object. She opened the door and stepped aside so he could enter.

"Josephine, you are hurt!" The anxious tone in his voice touched her.

"I'm all right," she said bravely. "Just a little sore, that's all."

"I hope you are getting plenty of rest."

"That's about all I've been doing. How have you been?"

"I have been all right, but missing my Josephine, and worrying about her injuries."

Jo sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have emailed or texted - "

"Oh no, that is quite all right. I have here an operetta called Das Land des Lachelns - The Land of Smiles. It is one of my favorites, and I would like to share it with you."

He showed Jo the DVD he was holding; on the cover was a picture of a smiling man with wavy brown hair embracing a brunette. Jo didn't have the heart to tell her friend she didn't care for operas and operettas.

"Shall we watch it?" Fritz inserted the DVD into the player, paying no mind to the zombie movie Jo had been watching. But it was up to the best part! her brain protested.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked.

"Just some water, bitte."

Jo brought glasses of water for both of them. Fritz sat at one end of the sofa, and Jo sat woodenly beside him. As the opera began, she was surprised to find herself enchanted by the music. It was in German, but with English subtitles.

She became so engrossed in the performance she barely noticed when Fritz's arm slipped around her and pulled her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder and soon began to feel pleasantly drowsy.

The operetta seemed to end entirely too soon.

"Is it over already?" She lifted her head from his shoulder.

Fritz smiled. "Unfortunately, yes. But it was good, was it not?"

"That's actually the first time I've ever enjoyed anything like this," Jo confessed.

Fritz didn't look a bit surprised. "It is always good to broaden your horizons."

"Well, what do you want to do now?"

"We can watch something of your choosing, if you want."

"Well, what kind of movies do you like?"

Fritz chuckled. "Anything you want to watch is fine with me. I am merely here for the pleasure of your company."

At a loss, Jo wasn't sure how to respond.

"Um, you don't by any chance like zombie movies, do you?"

"The living dead? No thank you, I will pass on that one."

"Well, how about..." Jo started scrolling through the choices.

"I'm a fan of Carice van Houten, if you have anything with her," Fritz suggested.

Jo found 'From Time To Time', and they watched it, Fritz's arm around Jo as her head rested on his shoulder. It was a position which seemed very natural to them both.

The credits were rolling when Sharon returned with the children. As Fritz rose eagerly to greet them, Jo felt as if some magic spell had just been broken.

The spring passed quickly. With a wink of her eye, Sharon arranged several more occasions for Fritz and Jo to be alone together for several hours at a time. They went on walking tours of the city, visiting museums, parks, the library, quaint little shops, and cozy cafes. Fritz told Jo of his boyhood in Berlin, of his parents and other relatives, of the beautiful gardens and zoos. His eyes grew misty when he spoke of Minna.

Jo told him about growing up in Concord, about what it was like to be the middle sister, of her army chaplain father. She didn't mention Teddy, as she saw no reason to. With great difficulty, she told him of Beth's troubles, how the illness had weakened her heart and, without a transplant, she wouldn't live much longer.

He turned sympathetic eyes to her as he clasped her hand in both his own.

"It brings me much sadness to hear of your sister's plight. I know the pain of losing a beloved sister and wish for you to be spared such grief."

"I keep hoping she'll get a new heart soon, but at the same time, I feel so guilty!"

"And why is that?"

"Can't you see? For her to live, someone else has to die!"

Fritz shook his head. "My dearest friend, you are not seeing the situation in the proper perspective. The gift of life is bestowed upon the recipient in a final expression of love, in that a part of the donor will live on in the body of the beneficiary. It can be seen as a form of immortality."

"I never looked at it quite like that before," said Jo. "How did you ever get to be so smart?"

Fritz's eyes twinkled. "The school of life."

On the day her assignment ended, Jo said goodbye to Sharon and the girls, then went next door to bid Fritz and his nephews farewell.

"I hope you'll come visit us sometime," she told him.

"Of course I will, if I have the opportunity."

"Well - thanks for everything." That seemed inadequate, but it was all she could think of to say.

Fritz smiled. "It is I who should be thanking you. You have brought much sunshine and joy into the life of a lonely old man."

She giggled. "You're not that old!"

"It is true, but the days of carefree youth are far behind me."

"That doesn't matter. Age is no barrier to true friendship."

"You do not know what happiness it gives me to hear you say that."

They hugged, and he kissed her cheek. As the taxi whisked her toward the railway station, she waved to him out the window until she couldn't see him anymore.

She didn't hear him singing "Dein ist Mein Ganzes Herz' softly to himself as he turned to go into the house.